


Harry and Bertie

by Abiwim



Category: Harry Kennedy - Fandom, Richard Armitage - Fandom, Vicar of Dibley
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abiwim/pseuds/Abiwim
Summary: Harry Kennedy has never had much interest in sex. Sure, it's fun; but his mind has never been blown by it.  Roberta "Bertie" Welland has not had much experience with sex. He is new to the village of Dibley; she works at the local primary school.Together will they develop a meaningful relationship, or is it all about the sex?





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Kennedy is an accountant. In that regard he is most definitely not very exciting. In fact, not very much in his life was exciting.

Recently he gave up his large flat in London; a change of pace was required. As an accountant he, really, could work from anywhere, so why endure all the hub-bub of busy London? He purchased a cottage in a sleepy little village; oddly enough it was called Sleepy Cottage and it was located right on the edge of the village of Dibley.

Dibley was a strange village, well the village wasn’t strange; in actual fact it was quite picturesque. The people? He wondered if there was something in the water. The man who sold him the cottage was pompous and full of himself, his son was a bumbling idiot. _His_ wife, the church verger, was even more off her rocker! And don’t get him started on Jim Trott: n-n-n-n-nothing could explain him.

But Harry was determined to make the best of it. He was a big walker and the fields and trails in the area were spectacular! The village had no pub, which was kind of a downer; but Eastley was not far away. He was sure he could stumble home on foot, if necessary.

So, it was in this frame of mind that he started to explore around. A fairly steep hillside ran up from Dibley and he decided that today was the day that he was going to tackle it. He set off, clad in sensible shoes, some comfy jeans and a brown leather jacket to stave off the breeze.

Roberta (Bertie for short, thank you very much!) Welland worked at the local primary school. She acted as secretary, event co-ordinator, fill in nurse (band-aids for everyone!) and all around Jill of all trade. Honestly, if she weren’t there the place would probably fall down. Bertie had grown up in Dibley, went away to Leicester for school and had come back only the year before.

On this particular day, she was hastening to a meeting with the vicar, one Geraldine Granger, to review the plan for the annual Spring Fling: a free-for-all disguised as a fair. She was walking briskly down Dibley’s main road, admittedly looking at her papers and not in front of her, when she slammed forcefully into the back of a very tall man. Bertie did not consider herself particularly short, but this man towered and towered some more above her.

As her papers exploded into the air she exclaimed, “Oh bugger!”

The man turned around and knelt down saying, “Oh here, let me help you.”

Bertie replied, “Thank you ver-“ She was going to say “very much” but the words stuck in her throat as she gazed into the most riveting blue eyes she had ever seen before.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said, “here I was just standing in the road…the scenery is so spectacular that I keep getting caught off guard.” He shuffled the papers he had in his hands, trying to tidy them into a semblance of neatness. As he handed them back he said, “I’m Harry.” As Bertie retrieved her papers he held out his hand, “Harry Kennedy, at your service.” A smile full of teeth and dimples spread across his narrow, but beautiful face.

Bertie gave herself a mental head shake, took his hand and chuckled, “B-“

‘Oh no,” thought Harry, ‘not another Trott!”

“Bertie Welland, at yours.”

“Bertie?”

Deadpan, she replied, “Yes.”

“That is an unusual name for a girl…”

“Yes, it is.”

“Right! Well, I am off to check out the hill. See you around.”

Bertie realised that she had probably sounded quite rude. She hated her proper name and the less that was said about that, the better. However, she didn’t want him to run off so quickly.

“You are new to the village? I’ve not seen you around.”

“Ahh, yes. I just moved here from London.”

Bertie’s face fell. Dibley was close enough to London that many “townies” had come to live, but none of them got involved in anything. All too rich and hoity-toity. For goodness sakes, they ended up spending most of their weekends back in London for something to do!

“So, you won’t be around too often?”

“Actually, I plan to dig in. I don’t need to work in town, so I be around all the time.”

She brightened. ‘She’s a little plain, but she really has a very pretty smile,’ he thought.

“Excellent!” She looked at the ground, an awkward silence ensued. She kicked at some dirt in the road and said, “Well! I’d better pop off. Meeting with the vicar…”

“Alright,” Harry started backing away from her. “We’ll see you around, then?”

“Yes. Yes.” Bertie smiled and bobbed her head while Harry turned and made his way up the hill.

“Bertie!” She jumped as the vicar called to her. “Are you coming or what?” The vicar stood beside Bertie and spotted Harry walking away. “Well, well, well…will you look at that…”

“I am! Trust me, I am!”

The women broke into giggles and made their way to the vicar’s cottage.

***

The Spring Fling was a complete success! Bertie looked around at the various stalls and activities that were laid out on the village green. There was a small merry-go-round, some bouncy castles, games of chance and games of “skill” and, her favourite thing of all, a dunking tank! This year she had convinced Hugo and Owen to be the victims; she had already raised £250 at a rate of £5 a go. Oddly enough the vicar bought 10 tickets…

She was busy tidying one of the student’s displays, a massive replica of the Tower of London, when a tall, lanky shadow cast itself across the table.

“Hello,” Harry’s smooth baritone sent shivers down her spine. ‘Oh stop Bertie, quit being a girl!’ she scolded herself.

She turned to him and smiled, “Hello to you, Mr. Kennedy. Are you enjoying the Fling?”

“It’s Harry…and yes, this is a good bit of fun, isn’t it?”

“We aim to please.”

“Well, there you go…mission accomplished!” His smile really was radiant!

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a very wet, very topless Owen rushing up to the table. “Bertie, love, have you anything to put on me?”

“Did you not bring a towel?”

“Well, uhhh, no.”

“Did you not think you might get wet?”

“Who knew the vicar could aim so well?”

“Right. Go off and see Jim, he can find something to cover you with!” She gave him a little shove, “Go on; be off!”

Harry was chuckling to himself. Bertie sighed.

“You seem to be the only sane one around here. Did you come her voluntarily?”

Bertie laughed, “No…but you did.”

He rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Touché.” He looked down at her and smiled, “Would you fancy a bite of supper?”

Bertie had to work hard to control her shock, “Who? Me?”

“Yes, you.” There was that million watt smile again!

“Uhhh, well…sure, why not?”

“Tonight?” he asked hesitantly.

“Okay, how about the pub at Eastley? Say 8 o’clock?”

“Excellent!” He touched her elbow and she thought she was going to fall over. “Look, I have to go…but we’ll see you at 8, K?”

Bertie smiled and nodded her head, waving as he left her side.

The vicar sidled up beside her. “How is Mr. Hot Stuff?”

Bertie turned to her friend, cocked an eyebrow and replied, “Mr. Hot Stuff is fine. Having supper with him tonight…”

Geraldine squealed, grabbed Bertie’s hands and jumped up and down.


	2. Chapter 2

The pub was less a sticky-floored place to get drunk and more of a quiet, intimate, darkened gastronomic experience. Bertie and Harry were lingering over wine after their meal. Harry had leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out under the table purposefully ensuring his ankle made contact with hers.

“So, you’ve lived here all your life, have you?” he asked.

“No, I went away to university and lived in Leicester for quite a while. I came back last year when my mum died. The house was left to me, so nothing was happening with my job in Leicester…” she shrugged, “why not come back?”

“And what do you do at the school?” Harry’s ankle was moving against Bertie’s.

Her nostrils flared ever so slightly, “I’m the secretary slash do it all girl.” She was wearing pumps; she slipped one off and ran her toe up under the hem of his pants. She flushed when she saw his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“What do you do, Harry?”

“I’m an accountant.”

The caressing of his ankle stopped, “You’re an accountant? Really?” She smiled what she thought might be a seductive smile and said, “And just how good are you with debits and credits?”

He sat up straight and reached across the table, taking her hand he said, “Shall I show you?”

Bertie put her shoe back on and rose from the table. A definite invitation.

***

They didn’t speak on the drive back to Sleepy Cottage. Nerves and shyness were conspiring to keep them quiet.

Harry came around the front of the car and opened the passenger door for Bertie. He took her hand and led her up the path to the front door releasing it to unlock and open the door.

Bertie hesitated before crossing the threshold. It had been a number of years since she had last been with a man and she was unsure of what would happen. Certain insecurities flared up in her mind: she was a little on the chubby side, she thought she was rather plain; could she really do this?

Harry, too, was fighting against his own insecurities. Sex had never been an important part of relationships for him. However, Bertie roused a flame in him that he had never before experienced. Would he live up to her expectations? Would he be able to satisfy her?

They stood in the entryway for a few moments before Harry remembered his manners. “Oh, here…let me take your coat.” Bertie handed it off to him. He carefully hung it in the wardrobe and paused before returning to her. “Would you like a drink?”

“No,” she answered. She was having difficulty controlling her breathing. “No, Harry I don’t want a drink.” She wrung her hands and said shyly, “I want you.”

Harry needed no further encouragement. In 2 long strides he was in front of her, pulling her close. He ran both hands through her beautiful chestnut hair and kissed her. He kissed her like he had kissed no other. He felt crazed, like he had lost all abandon. He wanted her and he wanted her now!

Bertie’s own passion took her by surprise. As soon as his hands had gone into her hair her nerve endings had burst into flame. She took his upper lip in hers and sucked gently on it, increasing the pull as waves of joy filled her. She brought her tongue forward and ran it along his bottom lip before slipping it inside his mouth. Warm breath met warm breath, their tongues met and curled around and over each other.

Harry and Bertie fumbled their way up the stairs, kissing and undoing belts and buckles, hooks and buttons. By the time they reached Harry’s room most of their clothes were strewn along the hallway. They broke apart, gasping for breath.

“Oh my god, Harry! I can’t believe I am doing this. This is totally not me!”

“It isn’t me either, Bert, but I can’t seem to help myself!”

Bertie went to work on the buttons of his pants while he stood looking down at her, clad only in her bra and panties.

“Wait!” He moved her hands from his pants. “Wait, I want to look at you.” She blushed and made an attempt at crossing her arms across her body. “No,” he gently moved her arms away, “No, let me look at you.”

He took her hands and held them away from her body as his eyes moved from her feet all the way up to her eyes. Bertie blushed at Harry’s whispered words of “gorgeous” and “beautiful”; she smiled when he circled around her and ran a hand across her rear, barely a touch. He stopped behind her and reached out for the clasp of her bra, deftly he unhooked it and slipped the silky straps from her shoulders. He continued around to her front to remove the wisps of lace from her breasts.

As he reached for her breasts she moaned. He stopped and looked at her, causing her to groan, “Don’t stop.” He smiled and continued his quest. He took a hold of her breast from the side and ran his hand down to cup it firmly. Her nipple was already hardened to a peak; he leaned into her and gently blew. She arched into his hand, her aureole hardened to a pleasurable pain.

She could stand it no longer and reached for his pants, determined to get them off. He fondled her breasts as she unzipped the pants. She expected them to fall to the floor, but they did not.  She removed his hands from her breasts, he pouted. However, his pout turned to a clenching of his jaw as she fell to her knees and pulled his pants down. She lifted first one foot and then the other out before turning her attention to his boxer briefs. She reached around to touch and knead his ass before tucking a forefinger into the elastic waistband. She could smell his muskiness and it was causing her muscles to involuntarily contract. She was wet, there was no doubt about that.

She lowered his briefs, causing his penis to spring forth. She looked up at him and smiled before lowering her head and kissing his skin at the juncture of his hip and thigh. He threw his head back! She was so close, his dick twitched in anticipation. With one hand she caressed his ass cheek, while with the other she rolled his balls. She kissed and licked the precise point where his balls leave off and his penis starts. Harry can do nothing but put a hand to her hair and moan obscenities.

Still with one hand on his ass she takes a hold of the base of his penis and squeezes gently. She leans in and licks the pre-cum from the tip before running her tongue up and down, around the base and back to the tip. Before he can register what is happening she takes his dick in her mouth, as deep as she can. With her hand around the base she bobs and sucks and runs her tongue along his penis.

Harry has never experienced anything quite like this before. Sure, he’s had blowjobs, but nothing as mind blowing as this. He is barely able to remain standing, only sheer force of will is keeping him upright. The noises coming from her throat, her own moans and sounds of pleasure push him to the edge.

“Bertie, oh yes Bertie…exactly like that.” Bertie smiles at his words of encouragement causing him to gasp and start bucking into her mouth. Using her tongue and varying the pressure of her lips, his shouts of, “Oh fuck! Oh Shit! I can’t…God Bertie!” ring around the room as he is taken over the edge. He releases in a gush of salty cum, filling her mouth. With a sexy grin she tips her head up to him and swallows, earning from him even more moans of ecstasy.

Bertie licks him clean, and Harry pulls her to her feet. He gathers her into his arms resulting in a shriek of protest from her. He lays her gently on the bed and hovers over her saying, “And now, my lady…It is your turn.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bertie opened her eyes and looked around thinking, ‘Where in the hell am I?’ From behind her she could hear a throat being cleared and she felt the weight of an arm across her waist. Slow realisation dawned on her and she smiled in ecstatic remembrance.  The feel of Harry’s hands caressing her from her hair to her toes. The feel of his tongue laving her breasts, making his way down her torso to her secret places. The feel of his scruff tickling her thighs as his tongue and hands paid homage to her womanhood. She blushed as she remembered the screams of ecstasy and calling his name in unbridled passion. Never before had she experienced a night like that.

The sun was just beginning to come through the curtains; Sunday, church day. She blushed again thinking about how Geraldine would know just by looking at her what had happened on her date. ‘Oh lord, I’ll never hear the end of it!’

Harry’s hand moved on her waist, tightening its grip. He pulled her closer, spooning her. She could feel the swelling of his member against her ass and wiggled.

“Oh hell, Bertie…” Harry groaned.

She rolled over, putting her hands to his chest. “Hell? Really?” She threw her left leg over his and rolled her hips forward, “Really?” she purred.

With a groan Harry rolled her onto her back and kissed her deeply. For a brief moment he worried about his morning breath, but tossed the thought aside as Bertie’s tongue plunged in, twisting and mating with his own. He broke the kiss, turning his attention to her neck. Last night he had discovered a spot just under her ear that had made her a mewling kitten. There! There is the sound, her purr made his stomach clench. He concentrated on the spot, his tongue circling, his mouth taking her earlobe and sucking gently.

“Harry…wha-I can’t-“

“Shhh,” he replied, kissing her lips before moving down her throat. He kissed and licked the hollow at the base of her throat. Her hands were all over his body, running up and down his spine, kneading his ass, reaching into the small space between their bellies, tracing small circles.

She brushed her fingers across the tip of his penis. “Fuck, Bertie!” “Yes, please Harry. Please fuck me!”

Last night had been an oral love fest…this morning all she wanted was his hard cock to plunge deep inside her.

She spread her legs and rolled her hips, grinding hard against him. He reached down, spread her folds and eased himself into her darkness. “God you are so tight!” They moved against each other, small sounds escaping their throats. He propped himself up on his hands, all the better for long, deep strokes, and leaned forward to kiss her. She pulled on his shoulders, dropping him to his elbows, all the better for wrapping her legs around him, all the better for depth. Harry was well endowed, but she wanted to feel him against her cervix.

Using her legs she urged him on, faster and faster! They matched each other; plunge to thrust, speed for speed until they were glistening with sweat. Bertie reached her head up and licked the glistening, salty sheen from his chest.

A sudden heat, ‘how could I get hotter?’ glowed in her womb; a sudden maddening need to finish. “Stop! Please stop!”

“Stop? You want me to stop?” Harry was gob smacked.

“I need you to stop, but stay right where you are.”

Harry’s arms were shaking, he was not sure if he could do as she bid.  She lifted her ass of the bed and started grinding her clit against his pelvic bone. With each grind the walls of her vagina tightened eliciting from Harry grunts of extreme pleasure. “Oh! I’ve never had that before!” he smiled. “THAT is gooood.”

She stiffened, tightening her walls even further as waves of lust and pleasure poured through her body. “Oh FUCK Yes!” she shouted. Harry needed no further encouragement, he pumped into her slickness and came with an incomprehensible shout!

He slumped onto her body as she wrapped her arms and legs around him further. Both were lost in their own thoughts, breathing hard, trying to catch their breath.

Harry rolled to his side, keeping his arms around her. He lifted his hand to her face and said with a sigh,”That was the most amazing fuck I have ever had!”

Bertie grinned and rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah,” she moaned. She looked over his shoulder and saw the time. “Damn!” She smiled at him sadly, “It is almost 10, I have to get up for church.”

Harry blushed. “After that you are going to church?”

She giggled, “I must repent my sins, mustn’t I?”

Harry’s face fell as he sat up, “You thought that was a sin?”

She knelt in front of him and took his face in her hands, “Most definitely not. That was the most beautiful, erotic…” she searched his face, “God! Harry, you are so beautiful.” She kissed him gently, coaxing his mouth open. They shared a soft kiss, tongues caressing lazily.

****

Bertie was 5 minutes late for church. She scuttled in and tried to find a seat without drawing any attention. Unfortunately, Geraldine was a hawk and focused on her, resulting in all heads turning toward her. Bertie blushed and gave a small wave.

“Nice of you to join us, Bertie,” Geraldine said with her normal sarcasm. Geraldine continued the service with the Opening Prayer. Bertie took a seat in the last pew.

Normally, the vicar’s sermons were quite riveting, however Bertie could not seem to concentrate on it. She kept remembering the feel of Harry’s kisses, his hands in her hair, his blue eyes staring into her hazel. She followed the standard responses required in church, standing when it was time to stand, kneeling when it was time to pray but bubbling ever under the surface were thoughts of him.

She was shaken from her reverie by a sturdy “Harumph” coming from above her. She looked up to find the whole row waiting for her to get up so they could leave. She shimmied her way out of the pew, apologizing. “Sorry, so sorry, pardon me.”

Upon leaving the church, she shook the vicar’s hand and said the usual, “Very nice service, Vicar.”

“Baloney!” replied Geraldine. “You may have been there in body, but I don’t know where your brain was.”

Bertie blushed, “Sorry, I guess I was off in my own little world there for a bit.”

Geraldine grinned slyly, “Did that world involve Mr. Hot Stuff?”

“Geraldine! Now is not the time nor the place.”

“Didn’t I see you out with that Harry Kennedy last night?” David Horton, the richest man in town (and the one who sold Sleepy Cottage,) asked as he touched Bertie’s shoulder.

“See?” said Geraldine, with some glee, “Not the wrong time at all!”

David looked at Bertie again, “And isn’t that what you were wearing last night?”

“Ho ho! C’mon, give me all the juicy details!” Geraldine was practically hooting.

Bertie wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She turned to Geraldine and said, “No.” She turned to David and said, “Yes.” before walking away.

She had gotten down the street a way when she was caught up by her friend, and teacher at the primary school, Nancy Cotton. Luckily Nancy is a Catholic and hadn’t seen the debacle at church.

“Hello, Bertie.”

“Oh, hello Nance. How are you today?”

“I’m jolly. Care to pop in for some tea?”

Bertie accepted the invitation for, while she hadn’t been keen on talking to Geraldine about Harry, talking to Nancy always straightened out her head.

Nancy bustled around her bright kitchen preparing tea and biscuits while Bertie sat and watched.

“Here you go, Bertie.” Nancy stood holding Bertie’s mug of tea, “Hello there. Earth to Bertie.”

“Oh, geez, I’m sorry Nance,” she took the mug. “I’ve been out of sorts all morning.” Nancy sat across from Bertie and simply raised an eyebrow. Bertie shook her head and sighed, “I was out last night with that new bloke in the village, Harry Kennedy-“

“Oh, I’ve seen him. He is yummy!” Nancy was happily married to a doctor who worked in Eastley.

“Yes, he is. More than you know…” she gave her friend a pointed look.

Nancy looked at her with her head cocked to one side before realisation hit, “Ohhhhh ho ho ho! Good for you, my girl. Good for you!”

Bertie blushed, “He was pretty bloody fantastic!”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know.” Bertie started to get a panicky feeling in her stomach. “Neither of us asked the other.”

“So, knock on his door on the way home and ask.” Nancy covered her friends hand with her own. “It won’t hurt.”

Bertie nodded, “Yes…you’re right, of course.”


	4. Chapter 4

Bertie hesitated, her fist in the air, about to knock. She turned away from the door, ‘No, don’t do it, he’d have said if he wanted to go out again.’ She paced away from the door and then turned around again. She fidgeted like that for a bit before the door opened.

“Hello, luv.”

Bertie stiffened and turned around slowly, “Hiiii,” she grinned sheepishly. “I-uh-I was just wondering-“

“D’ya want to come in?” He stepped back, holding the door open for her.

As Bertie crossed the threshold she thought she felt Harry’s hand touch her neck, it sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. ‘Alright old girl, get a hold of yourself!’

“Please, come in.” Harry led her into his sitting room and indicated that she should sit on the sofa. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, I just had some.” She was twisting the strap of her purse in her fingers.

Harry sat directly opposite her on an ottoman. His knees were millimeters from hers. He leaned his elbows on his knees and said, “I’m glad to see you back.” His breath quickened.

Bertie could not have controlled herself no matter how hard she tried. She reached across and wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck, he pulled her to the edge of the sofa and their lips met in the middle. Fast and passionate, their kisses moved from lips to necks to ears and back to lips. Their tongues trailed across each other and back along the traces of the kisses.

Harry rose to his feet, pulling Bertie in close. She was on her tiptoes, her arms around his back; pressing herself as close as she could get. Her coat was still on and she still had her purse in one hand, but they were both forgotten in the rising heat.

Harry wanted to be as close to her as possible, as such he pushed her coat off her shoulders and hastened to undo the buttons of her blouse. Her hands were roaming up and down his body-

DING DONG

“Fuck, no, not now,” Harry stepped back from Bertie and whispered, “Stay right there, don’t move a muscle.”

He hurried to the door, swiping a hand through his hair. DING DONG He stood in front of the door, rubbing his hands on his thighs, trying to calm his breathing.

He swung the door open to find Geraldine and Alice Horton, the verger, on his doorstep.

“Oh, hello,” he smiled.

“Hello,” replied the vicar.

“Hi,” Alice affected a small curtsy.

All three stood looking at each other.

“Uh, how can I help you?”

“Well, we wanted to pop by and welcome you to the village…see if you have any questions…” Geraldine kept bobbing her head, trying to get a glance inside. However, Harry had opened the door only part way and was filling the space with his body.

Bertie heard Geraldine and moaned in panic. She made a dash for the kitchen.

“That is very kind of you…but now is not really a good time. Lots of unpacking still to do and such.”

“Oh, we could help you with that!” Alice offered. She was very keen to get to know this handsome man.

“No, no…thanks. I’m just taking it slow today; you know puttering.” He started to close the door, “but I appreciate the offer and I hope to see you soon.” He firmly shut the door.

Geraldine and Alice stood on the doorstep, rather befuddled. “That was strange…,” said Alice.

“Londoner!” replied Gerri.

Harry stood for a moment with his back pressed against the door, until he heard the women moving away. He dashed from the door and returned to the sitting room. “Bertie? Bertie, where’d you go?”

Bertie stuck her head around the kitchen door, “Are they gone?”

“Yes, they are gone.” Bertie returned to the sitting room. “But you have been very naughty!” She looked confused. “I told you to stay where you were.” He walked slowly toward her.

Bertie was suddenly afraid, was he serious? Was he angry? “I-I didn’t want Geraldine to know I was here. She already knows that I am still in the same clothes from last night.”

“Well, then. I suppose you had better take them off.” He looked at her with intensity, his eyes darkening slightly. “Go on.”

Bertie started to unbutton her blouse, her fingers were shaking, but she felt emboldened by this man’s eyes and the way he was watching her. She removed her trousers and socks, standing before him in only her bra and panties.

“All of it,” he said.

“No. Now it is your turn.”

Harry smirked as he pulled his jumper over his head and unbuttoned his shirt. His pants and socks landed in a pile with the other clothes. He breathed in deeply when he saw her breasts start to pucker under her bra. He wanted to reach out and touch its softness. They stood there, looking at each other for a long minute.

“Come here!” Harry ordered. He pointed to a spot about 3 inches from where he was standing beside the oversized sofa (much too big for the sitting room, but a comfortable reading spot,) the arm of which was about even with his knee. She hesitated before taking what she hoped were sultry steps toward him. (They weren’t but Harry thought she was adorable.)

She halted before him as he said, “Remove the bra and panties, and then I want you on the arm of this sofa.” She looked at him questioningly. “I want _you_ to kneel on the arm of the sofa.” He grabbed the seat cushion from the middle of the sofa and put it on top of the end one. “Put your hands on the cushions.”

He helped her up onto the arm of the sofa and asked, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Good, now let’s see what we can do here.”

He ran a finger down her spine, sending shivers following along after it. Bertie licked her lips and bit the lower one. How could something so simple feel so erotic? He moved his hands back up to the top of her back and ran both hands down, slowly; being sure to linger on her sides and run the occasional hand down onto her belly. Bertie was having trouble to keep from squirming.

His hands were now on her ass cheeks, squeezing and giving her the occasional slap. “OH!” He nudged her knees apart ever so slightly and, kissing her ass cheek, he ran a finger along her folds. He could feel her wetness and moaned, “Oh god, you’re already wet for me.”

“Uh huh,” was all she could manage to say.

Harry’s fingers were now rubbing across her folds and stopping with a swirl on her clit. Little gasps and moans were coming from her mouth. Her head hung down, her hair spilling onto the cushions. To Harry it was a beautiful sight. Total trust in whatever he was going to do to her.

“Alright sweetheart, take a breath,” he instructed just before inserting both his middle and ring fingers into her vagina. She squeezed his fingers involuntarily. “I want you to look at me.” She raised her head and looked back over her shoulder to see Harry put his fingers into his mouth, sucking her wetness from them. Harry groaned and Bertie gasped. The look of ecstasy on his face spurred on her own and she clenched her internal muscles trying for release. 

Harry returned his fingers to her vagina and rubbed them from her opening to her clit. Meanwhile, he kept steady pressure on her perineum with his thumb. Bertie had never been touched like this before, any sex she had previously had had been very ho hum. Before last night, she had never had an orgasm with a man.

She was gasping and bucking against his hand when it was replaced with a gentle prod of his penis.

“Oh, god, yes! Harry yes!”

Harry stroked slowly into her, he snaked a hand around her front and rubbed her clit.

“Oh my god, Harry! I’m not going to last!” Harry picked up speed, there was the telltale sound of skin slapping skin along with a keening sound coming from deep within Bertie.

“Come on, baby! Cum for me!” he whispered near her ear. “Fuck, love – Cum for me!”

He pressed her clit slightly harder and she, with a cry, exploded into a million pieces. Her muscles spasmed on his cock, causing him to reach the same heights.

Bertie was still balancing on the arm of the sofa; Harry bent, splayed across her back. His arms were wrapped around her, each cupping a breast. He pulled free of her and picked her up before sitting on the sofa, her arms wrapped around him.  


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours later Bertie left Harry’s house, only to turn around and knock again. He opened the door and leaned against the jam.

“Are you ever going to leave?”

She ducked her head and blushed, “I realised that I never even asked the question I came to ask…”

“And what would that be,” he drawled.

“What are we doing here?” She pointed back and forth between them.

Harry furrowed his brows, “You mean between us?” Bertie nodded. “Well, I thought we were having some fun…you know, getting something we both need.”

“Oh, ok…,” she looked disappointed and then smiled, “right. Good. Well, I’ll just be off then.”

“Good night, Bertie,” he said warmly.

Bertie walked down the road and turned to look back as he was closing his door. ‘Fun. Huh. What the hell does that mean?’

She was still pondering that question the next day. She sat behind her desk, keeping an eye on the children seated across from her. Bullies. Each of the children were worrying themselves in some way, one was twisting her hair around a finger, the oldest boy was tapping his knee…Her phone buzzed.

“Right, Daniel Miller, in you go.” She pointed to the Headmistresses office.

5 minutes later Daniel Miller’s parents barged into her office.

“Where is he?” Daniel’s mother was a tall woman with shoulder length hair and long false nails. Natasha Miller (nee Hindman) was the same age as Bertie, they had been in the same classes all through school. It was not difficult to see that the proverbial apple had not fallen far from the tree. Her husband was a twee little man, quiet and prone to gawking. “Roberta Welland!” Bertie burned inside, ‘That name!’ “Where is my son?”

Bertie turned a pleasant face to the woman, “Natasha, dear, he is just in with Theresa now. It shouldn’t be much longer.” She rose and came around her desk, “Please sit. Would you like some tea?” ‘With arsenic?’ she thought.

“No!” She waved a hand in the air as her husband tried to speak. Bertie smiled and prepared a cup of tea for him. ‘Poor dear.’ He smiled, grateful for her understanding, and nodded his head.

Bertie returned to her desk and started typing.

“I understand that you have taken up with that new Londoner.”

Bertie’s fingers halted as she slowly turned her head toward the woman. “Taken up with? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, we all saw you at church…still in the same clothes…Delores Turnbull saw you leaving Sleepy Cottage late yesterday afternoon and you were _still_ in the same clothes…”

“Natasha Hindman-“

“That is Miller.”

“Miller, then, I would thank you and Delores Turnbull to mind your own business. I will,” she air quoted, “ _take up_ with whomever I please.”

“Really? Maybe a slut-“

Her husband gasped, “Nat!”

“Maybe a slut should not be interacting with the children of the district!”

Somehow Bertie managed to keep her head, “Perhaps you should bring that up with Theresa, some other time. Today the issue is your son, who does not seem to understand the concept of ‘to each his own’.” Mr. Miller tried to keep his lips from twitching.

Bertie’s phone buzzed; she lifted the receiver and spoke to the headmistress, “Yes. Yes. I will send them in.”

She walked to the headmistress’ door and opened it, “Please, come this way.”

If nothing else, Bertie Welland was always (ok, maybe not ALWAYS) professional.

20 minutes later

Theresa followed the Millers out of the office, she looked at the girl still waiting her turn, sighed and said, “Mathilda, go back to class. I will just call your parents later.” The girl made a dash for the door.

“Honestly, Bertie! Some people are like clouds.” Bertie looked at her, confused. “When they disappear it is a brighter day.” Bertie handed Theresa a steaming cup of coffee. “Bless you, dear.”

“So? What is to happen with young master Miller?”

“I don’t know,” Theresa seated herself on one of the vacated chairs. “I fear I may never get through to him.”

“Well, he is quite like his mother…”

They sat in quiet for a few minutes.

“Bertie,” Theresa said, hesitating, “What is going on with the new guy in town?”

“In all honesty, I don’t know. He says we are having ‘fun’.”

Theresa got up and made her way back to her office, she looked pointedly at Bertie, “Just try to be a bit more discreet?”

Bertie gave her a crooked grin and nodded.

***

Bertie nibbled the tip of her pencil before tapping it on her blotter. She was having a very difficult time concentrating. She was thinking about Harry, about how they were having “fun”. She was after a little more than that. Thoughts of problems with Harry soon turned to other things with Harry. She smiled as she remembered the feel of his hands on her back. The sounds he made as he fucked her from behind. The deliciousness of being close; his warm body wrapped around her own.

She wasn’t sure how she got home. Her house was 2 miles away from Dibley and she had no recollection of leaving the school let alone driving home. She put the car in gear, applied the handbrake and exited the car. She looked up to see Harry on her porch.

She smiled. “Hello! What a surprise.” She looked around in confusion, there was no other car in her drive. “How’d you get here?”

Harry pointed to his bicycle, “She’s very good at covering distances.”

Bertie was surprised. Yes, he was well muscled and, definitely, in better condition than herself but the thought of cycling 2 miles was impressive to her.

“Well, maybe we should get you inside.” She unlocked the door, “Something to eat?”

“Yes,” he hesitated. “That would be lovely.” He looked at her, his features softening and his eyes taking her all in. “Something to eat would be…very pleasant.”

She blushed bright red and hastily entered the house. “Well, I’m not sure what I have…” She opened her refrigerator, “we may have to settle for the chippie.”

Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, “That would be fine.” He nibbled at her earlobe. “I can take you on my bike.”

She turned in his arms, shutting the refrigerator. “I don’t know how to ride a bike,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“That’s alright. I know how to ride, you just have to come for it.” The feel of his breath against her neck was turning her legs into rubber. His lips followed the line of her neck from her ear down her throat where he licked the hollow between her clavicles. She bent her head back to provide better access.

“Oh Harry, you do amazing things to me.”

He smiled, “I feel powerful with you. All I have to do is touch you and you melt.”

“Hell Harry,” she chuckled, “all you have to do is look at me.”

His hands roamed down her back to her ass, squeezing gently. Bertie looked up into his face and smiled wistfully.

“Why do you look so sad?” He removed his hands from his exploration and took her face in them. “Come on, tell me. What is wrong?”

He walked backward until he reached the squishy sofa in Bertie’s kitchen. He said, pulling her down to sit in his lap, “Now, tell me love. What happened?”

She told him about the incident with Natasha Miller and what Theresa had said to her. He sat for a few moments, pondering what she had said.

“Well then. It seems to me that we will have to come up with a plan…,” he ran a hand through her hair and caressed her shoulder. “Why don’t you bring some clothes to my house?” She was about to protest. “I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a few days but, God Bertie, I don’t want to stop. I want to see you,” he leaned in closer to her, “and fuck you, every day!”

Bertie pushed him back into the couch and kissed him. She adjusted herself to straddle his thighs, pulled off his jumper and went to work on the buttons of his shirt. He threw his head back, laughing, “Oh yes!”

She kissed her way down his chest, button by button, before pushing his shirt from his shoulders. She followed his sleeve, trailing kisses down his arm, stopping at his hand. She held it away from her, turning it over and back, before placing it palm up and kissing it. He held her cheek and said, “God, you are so beautiful!”

She blushed and demurred, whispering, “No, I’m not.”

He put both of his hands to her cheeks, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. Fiercely, he said, “You are!” He could feel, deep in his stomach, something he had never felt before. A bubbling, a cauldron of fire building, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

He kissed her hard. He kissed her like he had to leave his mark on her; his proof of adoration. Bertie gasped for air before returning to his lips. She nipped at his lower lip, encouraging him to open to her tongue. Once she had it, she sucked and twirled her tongue on his; still straddling him she could feel his need for her.

Spring was in the air and the weather was warming up, so today she had not worn any stockings with her skirt. She stood quickly and shucked off her panties, reached for Harry’s pants and pulled them down enough for his manhood to spring forth. She returned to straddling him, her hand guiding his penis to its prize. She sank down on him, making full body contact chest to chest.

Harry’s hands were on her ass, guiding her speed. Their kisses were unbroken, tongues and teeth adding to their excitement. Harry’s hips were pumping while Bertie rode him and rolled her hips, squirming when she made contact with his thighs.

Neither of them said a word. This time was all about ferocity, about feeding a carnal need. Bertie’s breath was coming faster, a small sound coming from her. With each downward thrust she ground her clit against Harry’s pelvis a little harder. Harry reached down and pressed his thumb against her nub.

They were both slick with sweat and her wetness; with a few more pumps they were wet with his seed. She followed moments later while he called out some sound; something between a groan and a shout.

Bertie collapsed against him, her breaths coming short and quick. She wrapped her arms around him and plunged her hands into the curls at the nape of his neck. She kissed his neck gently and nuzzled him. Leaning her head against his shoulder she smiled and said, “I’m hungry.”  He tickled her, causing her to shriek. He tipped her over onto the couch, still tickling her before turning serious. He knelt over her, her hair splayed out over the cushion.

“You really are beautiful,” he said and kissed her tenderly.


	6. Chapter 6

Bertie and Harry continued to see each other on an almost daily basis. Nights were spent together, although typically it was at her home, as it was out of sight of prying eyes. She saw the glances, the whispering behind hands that she received at the shops, by parents at the school, even at church. Her, not Harry…of course not, he was sowing wild oats! She, however, had become the town slut. Her friends, the list of which was growing shorter, tried to encourage her to ignore them. She tried but it was wearing on her.

She decided to seek counsel from Geraldine.

“I’m not sure how much more I can stand,” she was pacing Geraldine’s living room. “That Natasha Hindman-“

“Miller,” Geri interjected.

Bertie glared at her, “Miller! She started all this. I don’t know what is wrong with her…she has always had it out for me!”

Geraldine was sitting on her couch, one leg tucked up under the other; she had a habit of running a finger along the seam of the cushions when she was pondering. “Technically, sweetie, you and Harry started it…”

Bertie swung around, fists on her hips, “Geraldine Granger! Are you saying what we are doing is wrong?”

Geraldine looked up at Bertie sheepishly, raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Ye-e-e-s. And no.” Before she could be interrupted, she hurried on, “I mean, we are all modern people, so really it isn’t an issue. But…”

“But? C’mon Geri, lay it all out.”

“Dibley is a small village. Everyone knows what everyone is up to…it’s the tittle-tattle of the village. You _are_ known in the district and it’s just…you know how it is.”

Bertie was stunned. She never thought that she would be hearing this kind of small mindedness from Geraldine. Yes, she’s the vicar, but she was no prude!

“Right! So support is not forthcoming, is that it?”

Geraldine had the decency to look abashed, but still shook her head. “I’m sorry sweetie, but I cannot publicly support you in this.”

Bertie felt lost. And confused. Her relationship with Harry was fantastic. Not only was he an excellent lover, he was sweet and caring; always solicitous of her feelings. He was a gentleman (he opened doors for her! That so doesn’t happen anymore) who treated her like she was precious.

And to Harry she was. He, too, saw the glances but, being a Londoner, was less prone to caring what others thought. For him, it was all about Bertie. She was different from any woman he had ever known. Her smile set his heart racing and her love-making…Wow! He had never cared much for sex, had never really understood what his mates were going on about; but with Bertie it was glorious. It was feeding his soul, making his whole life better.

Bertie got home that night angry. She slammed the front door and stomped her way to the kitchen. As she entered the kitchen a smile spread across her face.  She could smell something delicious cooking and made her way to the crockpot simmering on the counter. She lifted the lid to find Lemon Chicken cooking slowly. The table had been set and, in the centre, was a large bouquet of pink carnations. She stuck her nose into the arrangement and sniffed. Carnations always made her happy.

A sudden sound from above had her heart racing, her tummy doing flip-flops. Harry!

She raced up the staircase and hurried to where she heard the sound. She found him in her office, perusing her bookshelf. She leaned on the doorjamb and watched him, a slow sweet smile on her face.

Harry felt like he was being watched. He turned his head and saw her. He put the book he was holding back in its spot on the shelf and turned to her.

“Hello, my darling.”

At the endearment, Bertie started to sob. Harry shot across the room and enfolded her in an embrace.

“Sweetheart!” He put her head to his chest and stroked her hair. “What is wrong?”

She half laughed/half cried, “I’ve never been called someone’s ‘darling’ before.” Harry smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Harry, can we just lock ourselves up here and never go out again?”

He tilted her head up and grinned, “As tempting as that sounds, I think we might get hungry after a time.”

“Well, summer holidays start next week, and I have no intention of leaving my house!”

Harry laughed, “Now, now my girl, think of all that you will miss out on. With whom shall I walk, hmmm? Who will tell me who owned what house and the history of the families who lived there?”

She chuckled, “Some of those houses have stories to tell!” She looked up at him and asked, “Do you think they will stop talking?” A tear leaked from her eye.

Harry took her head in his hands, “You don’t need to even think of what they say. Understand? What we are doing…there is nothing wrong with it! We are enjoying our relationship on our terms. If they don’t like it, tough shit!”

“But what about my job? I think they might actually be considering not having me back next term!”

“Sweetheart, Bertie love, this will all blow over.” He smirked, “We aren’t that exciting.” He trailed his hands down her arms, took her hands in his and pulled her from the room, “Now, darling, how about a little something to eat?”

Bertie cocked an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head and laughed, “I mean chicken! The chicken you sex fiend!”


	7. Chapter 7

 

Bertie hadn’t been joking when she said she wasn’t leaving her house…Granted, there was much to do around her property. When her parents were alive it had been a thriving farm, but now she rented out the pasture and fields to surrounding farmers. All she kept for herself was a plot of 2 acres, the farmhouse and some out buildings. She had decided that she was going to convert one of the old barns into a holiday let. The work on that kept her quite busy.

Harry was an almost constant visitor. She appreciated the help he provided with her remodel and made sure he was well rewarded.

One day, about mid-way through the summer break, she and Harry were working in her vegetable patch. Harry was trying to convince Bertie to attend the annual fair.

“You can’t keep hiding out up here. You’ve got to come back to the village at some point.”

“Why?” Bertie stood and dusted her hands off on her pants. “Why should I? I don’t owe any of them any kind of explanation!”

“So come,” Harry followed her to the shade of a willow tree. “Prove to them that you can rise above it.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “C’mon Bertie, love, I’ll be with you the whole time…”

Harry flashed her his 100 watt smile. She gave him the evil eye and tried to resist his charm; which, for her, was impossible.

“Fine.” She put her hands up in surrender. Harry removed his arms from her waist and took each of her raised wrists in a hand. “What the heck are you doing?” Harry took two steps forward, forcing her backward until her back was flush with the tree.

He held both wrists with one hand and, using the other, traced his fingers from her hair, ghosting across her ear and with the faintest of touches continued down her neck to her collarbones. “I, my dear, am going to make you feel very, very good,” he purred in her ear.

She gasped as his tongue followed the path of his fingers; first down one side, then the other. He placed his hand on her breast and kneaded it through her shirt. She tried to take her hands down, but Harry would not allow them to be released.

“Uh-uh,” he mumbled against her neck. “You will do as I say...I will let you go, as long as you promise to leave your hands up there.” All Bertie could do was swallow and nod yes. “Good girl.”

Harry removed his other hand and proceeded run his hands down her body, stopping and lingering when he got a gasp or sigh from Bertie. He slowly unbuttoned her shirt and hovered over her straining breasts. The rise and fall of her chest held his attention as he held each of her lace-covered breasts in his hands. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to each stiff nipple.

The delicious feel of the dampened lace elicited a moan which made Harry growl low in his throat. He straightened and lowered her hands, “Just for a moment” removing her shirt and making quick work of her bra. The feel of the air against her breasts caused her nipples to harden and peak, sending pleasurable pain to her core.

Harry went to his knees in front of her, placing a hand on either side of her waist. He nipped and licked at her left breast, while his big hand covered the right. She threw her head back and cried out as he sucked, her hips moving of their own volition. Her hands went into his hair, encouraging him to put his mouth to her right breast.

“Uh-uh, no my dear,” he raised his head and put her hands back above her head. “No hands!” He tapped her nose with his index finger and ran it down to her lips. She opened her mouth and sucked his finger. His eyes darkened with lust, his cock twitching with each pull on his finger. “Oh fuck Bertie that is so good.” She looked at him from under her lashes and smiled, wrapping her tongue around his finger. “Jesus, woman!”

He pulled his finger from her mouth and resumed the worship of her breasts. His hands roamed freely, the feel of her silky skin, slightly damp with sweat, assailing his senses. He went to work on her belt and the zip of her jeans, making quick work of removing them. Once again, he stood, taking a step back. He wanted to see her in all her glory.

She gasped at the coolness, missing the warmth of his hands. “Harry?” He stood there, dumbfounded. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He smiled, “Absolutely nothing.” He stepped to her again and fell to his knees. His hands went to the elastic band of her panties, where he teased, running a finger along its edge. “God, Bertie, you are perfect.” He kissed her belly, dipping his tongue to her belly button and hooked two fingers in the waistband, he wiggled her underwear down over her ass and tossed them aside. His hands slid down her hips, down her thighs; he spread her legs running his fingertips back up her thighs and skimming past her womanhood.

“Oh,” she moaned in disappointment. “Please Harry, you’re torturing me.”

Harry squeezed her ass and leaned in to kiss her at the juncture of her inner thigh. Indistinguishable noises were coming from Bertie’s mouth. He blew softly and parted her labia before pressing a kiss to her inner lips. Her hips were starting to buck erratically; he knew she was close. He circled her vagina with one finger before sinking his tongue in. He swirled his tongue in her vagina before licking and kissing her clit. He inserted two fingers and moved them in rythym with her hips; his tongue flicking over her nub.

A keening sound was ripped from her throat as she came; his name carried off across the fields. She came with a force beyond any she had experienced before. The open air, the possibility of being found out contributing to her pleasure. Harry moved his mouth to her opening, sucking in her juices, glorying in making his woman shatter under his hands.

Bertie collapsed in his arms, entirely spent. Harry sat back and held her close, calming the shaking of her body. He was surprised to find tears on her face, “Shhhh,” he whispered in her hair. “It’s alright, my love.”

Bertie tried to speak, after a few hiccoughs managing to whisper, “Harry…” She turned her face up to his and put a hand to each cheek. “Harry, I love you.”

***

“Harry, I love you.”

‘Jesus,’ Bertie thought to herself, ‘are you trying to scare him off?’

She was in her big country kitchen peeling carrots, while the scene turned over in her mind, over and over again…

Harry stiffened. He reached up and removed Bertie’s hands from his cheeks. “I-I…Bertie, I –“

Bertie tried to brush it off, “Whoa! Talk about ‘the heat of the moment’!” She laughed as she got to her feet and searched for her underwear. She hobbled around, getting both legs in, finally leaning against the tree for support. “How silly. Don’t pay any attention to that…it just flew out of my mouth!”

Harry rose and gathered Bertie’s bra and shirt. Coldly he handed them to her. Without comment he turned and entered the house.

Bertie remained by the tree, hitting her head with her palms. ‘Stupid! Stupid! Way too soon for that!’ When she was sure he must have left she went into the house. She was surprised to hear running water from the first floor. ‘Well, that’s a good sign. Unless he’s just washing up before he goes home…’

She bustled around the kitchen preparing the evening meal. She had just gotten a small pork roast into the oven when Harry came down the stairs. He hesitated before entering the kitchen; Bertie could see his thoughts flitting across his face. She stood by the oven, waiting…

He crossed the kitchen, stopping a few feet from her. “I’m just going to go home.” Bertie tried to maintain a cool façade, but Harry saw the light dim in her eyes. “I’m not angry. I’m not freaked out.” He reached out and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “I simply need to think about what you said-“

Bertie tried to interrupt him, deny what she said.

“No! Please, don’t speak.” He took a deep breath and continued, “I believe you. I need to process it in my head.” He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up. He brought his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I _will_ see you tomorrow.” She looked at him questioningly. “The fair?” He cocked an eyebrow.

She nodded and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Tomorrow…”


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Harry got home he put in a phone call to his best friend, confidant and sister, Rosie.

“Rosie I don’t know what to do…”

“What are you talking about? All you do is go on and on about Bertie this and Bertie that, it’s Bertie, Bertie, Bertie.”

“I know,” Harry was genuinely confused. Was it love or just great sex?

“Stop being a git!” Rosie had heard enough, “I know you think it is all about the sex…but have you ever considered that the sex is so good because you love her?”

“Of course I have, Chicken,” Harry sighed.

“Look, Hairs, you aren’t getting any younger; what’s wrong with settling down? You always wanted that perfect fairy tale…besides,” Rosie chuckled, “if Bertie is half the woman you say she is, she is waay more than you deserve!”

Harry made a face, “Thanks for that. I just worry it is too soon.”

“Harry, I feel for you; really I do, but you are crazy about this woman – it’s as obvious as the nose on your face.” She paused, “And yours is enormous!” She laughed down the phone line.

“Alright, enough picking on your big brother. I’ll ponder your words of wisdom, oh smarty pants.”

“Good. When do you see her again?”

“Tomorrow. I’m finally getting her out of the house and down to the village for the fair.”

“You see her tomorrow? Do you see her every day?”

Harry made a sound like he was trying to avoid the question, “Yeeees,” he drew it out.

“You are both a git and a twat!”

“Well, on that pleasant note, goodbye Rosie.”

“Goodbye Harry, think about what I’ve said. I do love you.”

“Goodnight Chicken, I love you too.”

Harry crawled into bed late that night, mentally and emotionally exhausted. For the first time since meeting her, he was dreading seeing Bertie the next day.

****

Bertie was waiting impatiently for Harry. She could feel the eyes on her; it felt like everyone in Dibley and the surrounding countryside was looking at her. ‘Jeez, is it 1650? Do I have a big red A sewn onto my chest?’

“Bertie! Hey, over here!”

‘Oh friendly people.’ Bertie rushed over to where Nancy and her husband, Dave, were standing. “Thank goodness, I felt like I was about to melt like the nazi from Indiana Jones with all these eyes on me!”

“Just a bunch of busy bodies and nosey nellies. Don’t pay them any attention.”

“Oh sure, that’s easy for you to say,” Bertie looked pointedly at Dave. “You have him…you’ll note that I am standing here alone…”

“Well, where is Harry?” Nancy recoiled, “Has he stood you up?”

Bertie looked down at the ground, anywhere but directly at her friend, “I don’t know…he said he would be here around 10. Oh Nance! I think I screwed up seriously!”

Nancy nodded at Dave and took Bertie by the elbow, directing her to the shade of a tree. “Tell me all about it.”

“I-I, shit Nancy, I told him I love him!” Bertie was pacing up and down, unable to keep still.

“And?”

“And? He sure as hell didn’t say it back.”

“Ohhhh,” Nancy stood awkwardly, before rushing forward and embracing her friend. “Oh Bertie, I’m so sorry!”

“I feel like such a fool! A stupid, juvenile fool!”

“Oh Bertie, don’t say that. You aren’t.” Nancy lifted her chin. “You did the right thing. If you love him, he needs to know.”

“It’s too soon…”

“Alright, you are coming with us.” Bertie tried to back away, but Nancy took her firmly by the hand. “Come on, Dave and I will stay with you. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

Bertie glared at her, “I’m not afraid. I swear if Natasha Hindman thinks she is going to get the better of me, she has a lot to learn. I’m not the petrified teenager I used to be!”

Bertie, Nancy and Dave entered the fairgrounds; there were still eyes on her, but with her friends by her side Bertie felt confident enough to walk with her head high.

There were, of course, those of the village who didn’t care what anyone thought of her relationship with Harry. Alice and Hugo Horton spent some time chatting; as close to intelligent conversation as could be had with them, while Owen was keen to show her his prize sheep. (“Now, no hanky panky with this one, right?”)

The day was turning out to be quite enjoyable until she caught sight of Natasha. Or rather, until Natasha caught sight of her.

“Bertie, darling, you are alone?” Natasha was dressed in a suit jacket and slacks; while she sported a low heeled shoe, she looked incongruous amongst the farmers and other villagers.

‘Who the hell comes to the fair in a suit?’ She thought, but responded, “No.” She said sarcastically, “I’m sorry, do you not know Nancy and David?” Bertie knew very well that they all knew each other.

“I meant your…friend.” The sneer that accompanied Natasha’s statement almost sent Nancy to her throat, luckily Dave had a firm hand on her elbow.

“My ‘friend’?” Bertie looked at Natasha innocently.

“You know precisely of who I speak.”

“Of whom,” Bertie corrected.

“Pardon me?”

“Of whom you speak.” Natasha looked at Bertie, confused. “Never mind. I will be certain to send along your best wishes to Harry if I see him.”

“Has he dropped you?” 

This time Nancy growled in her throat and whispered to her husband, “Just let me at her. I’ll pull those extensions right out!”

“No, Natasha. He hasn’t dropped me.” Bertie decided she was tired of the innuendo and childishness that Natasha was dishing out, it was time to take back her own power; however before she did she glanced around to ensure there were no little ears and said, sotto voce, “As a matter of fact he fucked me quite well under my willow tree just yesterday!”

Natasha was outraged, Nancy and Dave were having trouble controlling their giggling, while poor Mr. Miller rolled his eyes and shook his head heavenward.

“You slut!” Natasha screeched. “You should be ashamed of yourself! How dare you speak like that in public?”

“Alright Natasha,” Mr. Miller spoke up. “That is quite enough.”

She wheeled on her husband, “You will not speak to me like that!” She turned back to Bertie, pointing and gesturing, “You cannot possibly support what this woman is doing under the noses of our children!”

“Oh for crying out loud, Natasha!” Mr. Miller took hold of her elbow and spun her toward himself. “What is the matter with you?” By this time a crowd was gathering around. “It’s not like you and I didn’t have sex before we were married! What is your problem with Bertie?”

“She-she’s corrupting the children-“

“No! No more. She is not causing anyone any harm.” Mr. Miller turned to Bertie. “Do you talk about this around the children?”

“Of course not!” Bertie was taken aback by the question. “I would never speak of my,” she cleared her throat, “activities with the children around.”

“There!” he turned back to his wife. “Are you satisfied? Can we have done with this now? To be totally honest, I am tired of hearing about Roberta Welland and her sex life!”

Someone in the crowd started snickering, which fueled the flames of laughter amongst them all. The crowd was laughing openly while Bertie stood looking at Natasha pityingly. She felt badly for the woman, realising that there must be something missing from her life to warrant the vitriol she spouted. Natasha was sputtering like a fish, unable to believe that her meek and mild husband had taken control of her in such a way.

The crowd started mumbling causing Bertie to look up to see Harry. He started toward her, the people parting like the Red Sea to let him through. As she watched him come toward her the world seemed to melt away.

He stopped a few feet from her, “Hi,” he said. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re here now…”

“I had to go see my sister.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes, she always knows the right thing to say-“

Bertie cut him off, “I frightened you…I understand if it still needs more time-“

“It doesn’t need more time, Bert. I was afraid it was just sex…,” Harry looked down and kicked at the ground, “but Rosie made me realise last night that it is great sex because I love you. I think I always have…”

“Harry-“

“No, please let me finish.” Harry swallowed and lowered himself to the ground, on one knee. He reached into his pocket and held up a ring. “Last night I couldn’t sleep. I realised it was because I need you in my life,” he raised an eyebrow, “Hell, in my bed, for the rest of my life. I’m late because I drove all night and back here this morning to get this ring; my mother’s ring from Rosie.”

Bertie stood looking down at him, all thought driven from her mind. All she could see was the man she loved, before her in supplication, baring his heart to her. What she had done to deserve this kind, funny, handsome man she did not know, but she knew that she wanted to be with him forever.

“Roberta Welland, will you marry me?”

The crowd held its breath as one. Nancy and David hugged each other tight. Natasha stood enthralled by what was happening; enthralled and disbelieving. Alice and Geraldine were practically jumping up and down with excitement.

Bertie fell to her knees in front of Harry, “I don’t even mind that you called me Roberta. Yes! Yes Harry, I will marry you!”

The crowd cheered as Harry wrapped his arms around Bertie, rising from the ground. Harry placed the ring on Bertie’s finger, kissed the back of her hand and took her face in his hands to kiss her properly.

Congratulations, hugs and slaps on the back were exchanged all around. Bertie led Harry to where Natasha and Mr. Miller were standing.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet Natasha and Peter Miller.” Harry shook hands with Peter Miller, who congratulated him heartily. He reached out his hand to Natasha only to have her huff and walk away.

Mr. Miller apologized for his wife’s rudeness, but Bertie was laughing. “It is alright, I expected nothing less.” He shook hands with Bertie and turned to follow his wife.

Harry ran his hands up and down Bertie’s arms. “I can’t believe you said yes.” She smiled up at him, “I was sure you would say no…if only because I did it in the middle of the fair.”

Bertie put her arms around him, but leaned back to say, “I thought about it. You were being awfully cheeky.” She looked behind him, to see a tall gorgeous blonde woman lurking, “When I saw this stranger nearby, I decided I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your sister.”

Rosie squealed and hugged Bertie, “Oh I thought you might say no. Goodness knows what you see in this brute!”

“He’s my brute.” Bertie kissed Harry a bit more than was appropriate for the Dibley fair, but the villagers pretended to see nothing.

 

 


End file.
